The Adventures of Kestrel & Sage
by chrestomanci
Summary: A piece being cowritten by myself and my best friend, D.E. Phoenix. We'll see where it goes and if I can keep up with her. Two particular hobbits just won't conform...


**The Adventures of Kestrel & Sage**

_Episode I: Gone fishing_

  
She ran, her bare feet sinking into the smooth dirt path that wound its way through Buckland. She ran, past the children that galloped on their wooden horses and played Izidizy. Hopping over the small fence, she dashed through the Bolger's farmland.  
"Kestrel!" The youngest of the farmers shouted after her. "Oy," He turned to his friend, "where does she think she's going?"  
"At last, Kestrel felt the pricks of cool grass against her calves as leaf shadows played across her oval face. Her hand brushed a familiar tree, feeling the small B carved into the trunk just at shoulder height. Kestrel turned off the path, sliding expertly down the small bank and stopping just before the river. She brushed back a few stray brown curls from her forehead and removing her small pack, sat next to the tall oak whose roots dipped into the calm waters. Kestrel dug through her pack, taking out a cloth warped bundle and her favorite book.  
Kestrel Brandybuck was a Hobbit of a "strange nature". She did not act as many of the Hobbit maids her age, worrying about marriage, parties and looking pretty. Instead of dresses and other proper things, Kestrel wore trousers, shirts, vests, and could be found wrestling with her many cousins when she should be practicing her needlework. Though defended by her kin, many Hobbits saw her as much as a tween as one could get. Her father, Doderic Brandybuck, had lost his wife in childbirth, and though he loved his daughter dearly, had no real means of raising her. Thus, Kestrel had been raised as a Hobbit lad would have been and as much as her female relatives had tried, could not be swayed into being a proper lass. Kestrel unwrapped her package and lay on the grass, preparing to enjoy her luncheon and novel in peace.   
Such a thing was not meant to be. Just as Kestrel had finished her first sandwich, the sound of a breaking branch and a startled, "Oh!" caused her to look up from her tranquility. A tumbling mass was headed straight for her! Letting out a frightened squawk, Kestrel rolled to the left, barely avoiding impact. She stumbled to her feet, clutching her book in one hand, second sandwich in the other.  
The stranger stood dizzily, detangling itself from a fishing pole and wicker basket. Kestrel scratched her head, bewildered. The attacker had been a Hobbit lass. She smiled at Kestrel from beneath a floppy, large brimmed, brown hat and a mass of red hair. She breathed heavily, brushing dirt off her dark green trousers held up be brown suspenders, and her light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her skinned elbows. The Hobbit surveyed her fishing pole for damage.  
"Um," Kestrel watched the girl test her fishing pole's string, "who are you?"  
"Hmm?" She looked up from her work. "Oh, my apologies." She removed her hat and bowed. "Sage Took is my name, sorry for my rude entrance. I was coming down the bank when the branch I was using for support snapped, I suppose you know the rest. I'll, uh, leave you to your book then." Sage straightened the strap across her chest that held her fishing basket and walked past Kestrel down the bank.  
"Wait!" Kestrel called after her. Sage turned, cocking her head to one side. "You're a Took?"  
"Daughter of Aldoras Took and Rosemary Brandybuck." Sage nodded proudly.  
"Any relation to Parsley and Thyme?" Kestrel joked, then stopped at the look Sage was giving her.  
"I get that a lot." Sage rolled her eyes.  
"Sorry." Kestrel shrugged. "I'm Kestrel Brandybuck."  
"I knew it!" Sage cheered. "Cel said I might run into you, never thought he meant literally."  
"Cel? As in Celadine Brandybuck?"   
"Uh huh. He's my cousin, on my mother's side." Sage looked down the river, distracted.  
"Should have known." Kestrel sat back down on the grass and opened her book. Sage began walking back down the bank. "You don't have to go all the way down the bank to fish."  
"Really?" Sage padded over to the tall oak tree, setting down her gear. "This is my favorite spot and all. The best fish are here."  
"Well then, by all means." Kestrel said through a mouthful of sandwich. Sage beamed at her, setting down her gear. As she shuffled through her fishing basket, she hummed a tune unfamiliar to Kestrel. Kestrel lowered her book, glancing over at the strange Hobbit as she cast her rod and began singing.

Oh, sing merrily on bank  
As fish swim in the sea  
Beneath the waters that  
Glisten and gleam  
I'll catch 'em today  
Before they swim by  
Then into my pack  
And home to fly

Sage went back into humming, pulling her hat over her eyes and tapping her right foot against the air. Kestrel watched her with great interest. Or was it amusement?

Fish with bread and ale  
Fried up in the home  
Best are the fish   
I catch on me own  
Smaller fish may be   
Caught by me 'cos  
But I'm the best fisher  
That ever was!

"Umm." Sage peered over at Kestrel. "That wasn't a very good verse was it?"  
"You wrote it?" Kestrel set down her book.  
"Tried." Sage grinned sheepishly. Suddenly, the string in the water gave a tug. "Ho ho!" Sage leapt to her feet, pulling on the rod. "Come on fishy!" She dug her heals into the ground, gritting her teeth as the line grew tighter. "Woah!" Sage flew forward, still clinging the rod with both hands.  
Kestrel dashed forward, falling behind Sage and grabbing onto her ankles, "Let go of the pole!"  
"Can't, is no' mine!" Sage struggled to keep hold of the rod.  
"Then cut the line!"  
Sage shot a disbelieving look over her shoulder, "And let the bugger go? Stop holding and start pullin'!"  
"What?" Kestrel was having enough trouble keeping Sage above water.  
"Help me pull the monster out of the water!" Sage slipped farther down the bank, hands almost dipping into the water.  
Kestrel rolled her eyes. She moved toward, clasping her hands under Sage's stomach and rising to her knees shouted, "Alright, on the count of three."  
"Skip the count and pull!" Sage hollered. Kestrels pulled Sage up onto her feet, then began walking backwards up the bank. Sage kept her grip firm on the pole, following Kestrel. Whether it was luck or not, the two never decided, but just as Kestrel was going to loose her hold, her ankle hit one of the large roots of Sage's favorite tree. Kestrel fell back, pulling Sage down with her. Letting out a warrior like cry, Sage tumbled over Kestrel pulling the last of her fishing line out of the water along with one very large, very stubborn fish.  
Kestrel rolled over in time to see Sage getting her face sufficiently slapped by the fish's tail. Sage found the line and pulled on it, dragging the fish off her. She stumbled to her feet, staring at the fish wide eyed.   
"Would you look at that!" Sage chuckled, face dripping with water and sweat. "It's almost bigger than I am!"  
"Yeah." Kestrel panted, clapping Sage's back "I don't think it's going to fit in your basket."  
"Nope." Sage picked her hat off the ground and rung it out on the ground. "I don't think so either." She knelt by the fish and removed her hook from its upper lip. "Well," Sage studied the hook, "looks like I could get at least two more fish out of this one." She looked up, flashing Kestrel a classic Took grin. "You wanna go again?"  
"Are you nuts?" Kestrel laughed.  
"Nah," Sage opened her basket, pulling out a tiny worm, "just a Took."

Oh, sing a little song  
As we wander home  
With a great fish we  
Caught all our own  
Giants of the sea  
You better beware  
When you hear us singing  
By the bank, take care!

Sage skipped down the path, large fish over her shoulder, two more small ones in her basket, and Kestrel Brandybuck at her side.


End file.
